


Skin Deep

by UP2L8



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Massage, PWP, Roy stfu, Yeah really!, and Yaoi Day, for RoyEd week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 14:19:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7644292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UP2L8/pseuds/UP2L8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ed wants to feel better. Roy makes that happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skin Deep

**Author's Note:**

> For RoyEd week. Thanks Tumblr. I didn’t see any prompts to suit my needs – which was for some quick and dirty pwp, but meh, this is my contribution. It kinda went from quick pwp to slow-build pwp, but it’s still dirty, so I’m satisfied. And by the end, so are the boys. \o/ 
> 
> No beta, and I literally just finished in time to post for this shipfest, so if you spot mistakes, I’d appreciate a heads up. I’ll revisit this in a few days to give it a cleanup. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Edward really liked Roy’s house. 

As houses go, there wasn’t really all that much that made it stand out, unless you counted simple comfort. Which Ed did. 

It was an older, two story brick home on a quiet, tree-shaded street, quite indistinguishable from its neighbours. It had a small, neat front yard (because Roy was all about keeping up appearances) and a bigger, rather neglected back yard (because Roy had long ago made procrastination into an art form). It had wide front steps rising to a narrow front porch, and a thick, bristly welcome mat in front of the door. Ed could feel the tension of the world fade away simply by walking up the path. 

The inside of the house was a refuge. Roy’s living room was cosy, especially when the weather was cold and the fire in the hearth cast long shifting shadows across the lush carpet. Ranks of photographs, familiar faces in mismatched frames, gazed down from the mantelpiece. The kitchen was small, sleekly modern, and uncluttered – very different from the large, homey country kitchens of Ed’s childhood – but practically arranged with room enough for a small table and two chairs, more than adequate for informal (and intimate) dining. The bathroom was large, with a shower easily big enough for two, and never seemed to run out of hot water or warm, fluffy towels. Roy’s well appointed bedroom was comfortable and inviting, fragrant with the scent of clean linen, a hint of the man’s smoky cologne, and something uniquely Roy – a bouquet that had Ed closing his eyes and breathing deep every time he entered the room.  

What Edward loved most about Roy’s home, however, was the spacious window seat in the master bedroom. It overlooked the neglected back yard from the second floor, and its southern exposure provided the perfect situation for basking on sunny days. There was no better remedy for achy automail ports than curling up on that comfortably padded bench with a good book, soaking up the rays. 

And Edward desperately needed that remedy today. The previous evening had been spent slogging through frigid muck in the sewers beneath Central’s streets, following a false lead Mustang had received concerning a long-sought rogue alchemist. Ed had been at it from late the previous evening until the early hours of the morning, unwilling to dismiss the lead until he was sure beyond the shadow of a doubt that the information was false. By the time he had emerged from the dark tunnels to a chilly November sunrise, the cold and damp had seeped into Edward’s ports, setting icy, tenacious fangs deeply to worry at the neural contacts, making his muscles twitch and jump in discontent. 

And it had all been for nothing. 

Now he was sore and overtired; much too sore, in fact, to even think about sleeping. Heading for Mustang’s place seemed like the perfect solution; Ed could raid the bastard’s library and curl up in his most favorite place in all of Central, distracting himself with a good read while the sun took the edge off his aches and pains. 

And if the bastard didn’t like it, tough shit. This was all his fault anyway, and if he didn’t want Ed invading his space, he shouldn’t have given him a key. 

Ed got there well after sunrise. The house was quiet, the Colonel off to conquer the world from behind teetering stacks of paper no doubt. If he was expecting Edward to show up with a report, he was in for a disappointment. Ed made a beeline for the bathroom, opting for a seriously hot shower first, then pressed Roy’s terrycloth bathrobe into service and headed for the bedroom to claim his respite. It took him some time to find a comfortable position on the sun-warmed settle, but he finally managed, propping himself against the frame, a book tilted open in his lap. With a quiet sigh Edward relaxed to let the sunshine work its magic. 

He wasn’t sure how long he had been there, dozing more than actually reading, before he was suddenly aware of another presence. Ed felt smoldering eyes upon him from the doorway before he heard the man’s quiet advance into the bedroom, and he looked up to see his lover moving smoothly towards him, lips pursed in amusement. Roy looked, as usual, like a million bucks, in shirtsleeves and uniform pants, prowling languidly closer to his prey. Edward wondered what he was doing home on a weekday well before noon, but he thought he could guess, judging from the hungry look on his face. 

Edward closed his book on a metal finger to keep his place. 

“No,” he said firmly. 

Roy stopped where he was, tilting his head to the side, smirk securely in place. He clasped his hands behind his back, rocked back on his heels, and lifted an enquiring eyebrow. 

“No,” Ed repeated, resolute. “And that’s final.” 

"But Edward," Roy’s innocent smile held a hint of the devil, "you know how hard it is for me to control myself. I’m not asking for much; my needs are quite simple: just to taste every inch of you, and to put myself inside you, and to hear all those delightful sounds you make while I do it."  

That was the thing about Mustang. He didn’t even _try_ to play fair. 

Not that Ed was in any condition at the moment for bedroom calisthenics. 

"Forget it, Mustang," Edward bit as the other man stepped closer. “I busted my ass all night chasing shadows for you. The least you could do is let me bask in the sun for a while.” 

Mustang held his ground for a moment, taking in Edward’s stiff posture on the window shelf, so different from his characteristic sprawl. Then with an almost imperceptible nod, he turned and left the room. 

Ed knew better than to think this was over. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the window frame, listening. 

He heard Roy move down the hall toward the bathroom, which meant that, sadly, food was not on the agenda. The quiet sigh of the linen closet door swinging open reached Edward’s ears, then the faint rustle of cloth, a muted glassy clink, and then Roy’s steady footsteps as he returned to the bedroom. 

Roy reappeared in the doorway, arms full of sheets and towels; a small green bottle and a hairbrush nestled on top of the load. 

The Colonel set about placing towels on the plushly carpeted floor, arranging them to form a thickly layered mat, careful to keep the entire surface centered in the sunlight slanting through the high window. The bottle and brush he placed carefully to the side. When he was done, Roy stood back, hands on hips, and turned his expectant regard upon a suspicious Edward. 

“What are you up to, bastard?” Ed wanted to know. 

Roy gestured with a sweep of a hand toward the makeshift pallet. “I rather thought that was obvious.” 

“You want me to lie down on that.” 

“Yes, Fullmetal.” The Colonel's tone was a verbal eye-roll if Ed ever heard one.

Ed carefully rotated his sore shoulder and gave Roy a barbed glare. “I don’t think so, Flame.” 

Roy knelt on the floor and settled back on his heels, knees together. He picked up the small glass bottle and began to roll it between his palms. “I don’t think you realize what you are refusing,” he said. “Have you ever had a massage?” 

“Of course,” Edward replied testily. “Winry usually gives me a deep tissue massage whenever she adjusts my automail. Leaves me sore for a day or two afterward. I’m not -” 

“There are many styles of massage, Edward,” Roy cut in to explain. “While I’m sure that Miss Rockbell has extensive experience with the forms most beneficial for her automail clients, I have something very different in mind.” 

The Colonel waited patiently as Edward mulled that over, brows knit, a tooth grazing his lower lip as he considered the older man’s words.

"I just want you to feel better,” the Colonel purred his coup de grâce. “Isn't that what you want too?" 

The Colonel’s dark eyes were fixed on him in unwavering intensity, handsome features a study in innocent concern tinted with barely hidden desire, and it sent a shiver down Ed’s spine to settle in the pit of his stomach. 

Nope. The man didn’t play fair at all. 

“Come. Sit,” Roy invited, sensing victory. 

Edward slid gingerly from the comfort of the window seat and walked reluctantly to his lover. Roy reached to gently position him, guiding him so that he was seated cross-legged in the center of the mat, Roy and the sun at his back. 

“First things first,” Roy said quietly as he pulled the tangle of Edward’s hair from the collar of the robe to tumble down Ed’s back. A moment later he was meticulously brushing it, gently loosening the tangles with careful fingers. In no time it was a smooth golden fall, and Roy parted it in the middle to press a single kiss to Edward’s nape. 

Edward let him get away with it, not saying a word. In truth he loved it when Roy bushed his hair. It relaxed him to a surprising degree. 

Roy reached around Edward to loosen the belt, then opened his robe, easing it from the younger man’s shoulders to pool at his waist. The sunshine was warm on bare skin, but not as warm as Roy’s hand, stroking long and slow up his arm, firm but gentle. When he felt Ed relax, Roy positioned his palms in the curves where shoulders meet neck, and began to knead, lightly at first, gradually increasing the pressure, concentrating on the tense knot of muscle above the automail flange until it finally released. Edward let out a small growl of pleasure, completely unintentional, and he could literally _feel_ the bastard’s self satisfied smirk. 

Roy never said a word, however, just stripped the robe the rest of the way off his lover. The whisper of cloth signaled the rolling of sleeves; then Edward was gently directed to lie face down on the pad, a pillow clutched to his chest for comfort. Chin resting on the pillow, Ed could just see Roy from the corner of his eye, once again rolling the glass bottle between his palms, and the easy smile the man shot his way when he noticed that amber gaze. 

“Relax,” Roy said, in case Ed had somehow missed the point. Dumbass. 

The aroma of the oil was mild; woody, with a hint of sweet vanilla. Warmed by Roy’s hands, the scent mingled with Roy’s own, a familiar, calming fragrance. 

“What is that?” Edward asked, voice quiet. 

“Amyris oil.” Roy twined his fingers with Ed’s, squeezing for a moment, then in one long, firm motion stroked up Edward’s arms and across his shoulders. “Specifically, oil of _Amyris balsamifera,_ steam distilled.” Roy’s low tone was almost hypnotic as his hands continued their journey from Edward’s shoulders, stroking down his back, his ass, his legs, and finally down the souls of his feet, ending at his toes. “The main constituents are valerianol, a-eudesmol, 7-epi-a-eudesmol, 10-epi-gamma-eudesmol, and elemol.” Roy had reversed direction, retracing his way up from Edward’s toes all the way back to his hands. 

Ed’s response was a low hum, to acknowledge that he was listening. It was all he was capable of at the moment, what with Roy now gliding his thumbs slowly down and then back up the muscles along his spine with steady, even pressure. When he reached the shoulder blades, Roy pressed his palms on the left one, applying compression in a slow, circular motion. 

Ed wasn’t sure why this felt so good, but it did. He really didn’t like to be touched; as a general rule he preferred that people to keep their distance. The obvious exceptions to that rule were Al, Winry, and of course, Roy. Maybe that was the reason: touch had a powerful effect on him, either positive or negative, and the touch of his lover held a profound depth of meaning. No one else could touch him this way. It went deeper than skin, beyond the physical, soul deep. 

Ed also found that while the massage was certainly relaxing his body and mind, it was at the same time subtly stimulating his senses. The warmth of the sun and Roy’s hands on his skin, the smooth rhythmic pressure on tired muscles, the pleasant yet subdued scent of the oil surrounding him, even the faint murmur of birdsong from the yard, all these things combined to ground him in the moment. 

Roy had moved from the shoulder, stroking down Ed’s back, down his legs to his feet, gently kneading his single heel, pressing his thumbs into the arch, rubbing his fingers around the ankle, then sliding up to knead his calf, pulling, squeezing at the firm muscle. 

“Still with me?” Roy’s voice was amused, and Edward realized that his eyes had drifted closed. 

His answer was a rumble, from deep in his chest. The bastard could make whatever he wanted out of that. 

A responding low chuckle was pretty much expected as Roy slid his hands up Edward’s thighs to work the muscles there, keeping his rhythmic movements as symmetrical as possible given that half of Ed’s left thigh was unyielding metal. There he concentrated on the ring of scar tissue just above the flange, using gentle pressure and stroking upward to match his treatment of the other leg, strong on the upstroke, lighter on the down. Each time he came closer to the muscles of Ed’s ass, sometimes dipping a thumb a little farther between his legs than strictly necessary, in the near vicinity of Ed’s balls. 

Well, it wasn’t like Edward didn’t know where this would likely end up. And actually, with his aches and pains fading under Roy’s skillful touch, he was beginning to warm to the idea. 

Roy had moved up to work on Ed’s ass, compressing, kneading, stroking. Ed knew how much Roy loved his ass, given the amount of time he spent staring at it. He was probably having a field day back there. It felt good, though, so whatever. Ed closed his eyes with a contented sigh, mind beginning to drift free from its moorings. 

He jerked back to the dock when Roy spread Ed's legs to kneel between them. 

“I hope you’re not falling asleep on me,” Roy said, hands pressing into the small of Ed’s back and riding smoothly up toward his shoulders. 

“Bastard,” Ed muttered with a frown. “I don’t sleep in the middle of the day, unlike one lazy Shit Colonel I know.” 

The sound Roy made was probably amusement as he continued to work out the many knots in his lover’s muscular back, neck, and shoulder, warming more oil in his hands to keep the flow smooth. Then on to his arm, down to his forearm, his wrist, finishing with a complex manipulation of his hand. Mmm. 

“Turn over Ed,” Roy leaned to whispered into his ear, moving out from between his legs, and Edward complied, noticing that most of his aches had eased. Even his automail seemed to move more smoothly. Weird. 

“I feel better,” he said, noticeably surprised. 

“Of course,” Roy said, noticeably smug. 

Ed considered punching him, but didn’t think such an exchange would be equivalent. 

“And I see that I was mistaken about your state of drowsiness,” Roy said, still smug as hell. “Or perhaps _arousal_ would be a better word?” 

His intense gaze was focused on Ed’s lap. Ed looked down. Lo and behold, an impressive erection was jutting up in all its glory. Shit! How the hell did that happen without Ed noticing? 

Roy had maneuvered himself between his lover’s legs and was smoothing his hands up Edward’s arms from fingertips to shoulder, stroking to flatten against his chest, palms cupped over nipples, rubbing firmly in a circular motion, dark flamelit eyes never leaving Ed’s.

Growling, Edward reached out and yanked Roy closer, pulling the Colonel down by his collar until they were eye to eye. The shirt, he decided, would have to go, and he immediately mounted an assault on the buttons. 

"Why Edward," Roy purred, content now that his efforts had earned what he wanted. “Whatever are you doing? I thought your final answer was ‘no’.”

Edward reached the last button and stopped. Glaring, he placed a hand against the man’s bare chest.

"Don’t speak," he ordered, voice low and rough, and he could feel the shiver race just under the other man’s skin. "If you say a single word, I'll stop." 

Nodding slow and deliberate, Roy looked down at him, smirk barely touching intense dark eyes, too smart to voice that single word of agreement. 

"Good."

With the bastard quiet, Edward could concentrate. He raised a hand to Roy's face, lightly stroking his grin with the pad of his thumb. Roy’s smirk bloomed into a wide smile as he caught the teasing thumb gently with his teeth. Edward pulled it free to trace knuckles along the line of Roy's jaw, burying his fingers in fine black silk to draw Roy closer. 

And finally, their lips met. 

If you could say only one thing about Roy Mustang – and you could actually say rather a _lot_ – he was an amazing kisser. Lips soft, warm, opening to heat and a questing tongue, a tempting scrape of teeth; slow and gentle at first, the passion and intensity building to raging fire. The man’s mouth was a marvel, and he knew how to use it. Ed’s head fell back against the pillow as Roy’s fingers brushed against his cheeks, curving back to cradle his head in both hands, anchoring him in place while he ravaged his mouth.

They soon had to break for air, panting, breathless. Edward tugged the other man's head back, baring a long, pale throat as Roy arched above him. Leaning up, Edward trailed a line of faint kisses down the side of the Colonel's neck, the scent of the other man's skin mingling with the aroma of the oil sheening Edward’s body. At the hollow of Roy's throat, Edward paused, tongue drawing slow spirals over that sensitive spot, sucking and nipping when Roy began to shudder. Only an involuntary gasp betrayed the Colonel's pleasure, but that was fine. Ed had never said Roy couldn't make noise. In fact, Edward hoped to pull more such noises from his lover.

Untangling his fingers from Roy's hair, Edward slid his hand over the other man's chest, brushing his shirt past his shoulders. The ripple of toned muscle drew his hands, and Edward skimmed his palms down Roy’s broad chest, down his taut midriff, to the zipper of his pants. Roy shivered as Edward drew the zipper down to the end of its track, then dipped inside to trace light fingers over the other man’s impressive arousal before wandering back up again. 

Roy never moved as fingertips grazed heated skin, retracing a path over quivering abs, up the centerline of his chest, homing in on nipples already hard, pebbled buds. Edward took his time, watching Roy’s reactions, exploring the effects his stroking fingers had on the Colonel, the way Roy's stomach muscles tightened when he traced around a dark nipple, biceps flexing as Roy clenched his fists against the mat. Edward took time to admire his lover’s leanly muscled frame, unexpected in a supposedly desk-bound bureaucrat, and he rolled one nipple under his thumb just to hear the man’s control waver on an uneven, indrawn breath. Still, not a word passed Roy’s lips. 

A silent Colonel was a novelty, and Ed was surprised at how arousing it was to hold such power over this man. A quiet Roy couldn’t take control, couldn’t distract Ed with glib words, couldn’t be the military commander. What Edward wanted, he could take, though there was no doubt that both of them wanted the same thing. 

Sitting up, Edward gave in to the urge to take a nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking and worrying it gently with his teeth. Roy's spine curved, pushing closer to Edward, a wordless moan escaping despite the Colonel's attempt to remain quiet. When Edward did not stop what he was doing, Roy took it as permission to be more vocal, and he hummed his encouragement.

With the Colonel's soft sounds driving him on, Edward slowly continued his exploration of bared skin with lips, and tongue, and teeth, making his way down to Roy's flat abdomen, gently urging the man down flat on his back with Edward kneeling between his legs. Roy's faint hums had turned breathless by the time Edward's tongue dipped briefly inside his navel before pressing a quick kiss just below. He then eased back from his task, noting that the thick cloth of Roy’s uniform pants was doing nothing to hide the man’s excitement. 

The Colonel did not resist when Edward lifted an eyebrow as he tugged at the loose waistband of Roy’s uniform pants. He wasted no time, lifting his hips so that Edward could ease off his clothes to cast them aside, then laying back again at Edward’s urging, sprawled out comfortably across his makeshift padded floormat, legs cocked open in invitation. Settling again between his lover’s legs, Edward reached out to run one light finger up the underside of Roy's erection. He could feel Roy's eyes boring into him, and it lit a grin on Ed’s face when Roy's hips jerked as Edward did it again before circling the head, stroking curled fingers down the length, cupping his palm over full, heavy balls and resting there for a moment. Then, long, firm strokes slick and sliding smoothly, and Roy was rocking up into his hand, head tilted back, eyes closed. 

Beautiful.

Roy was beautiful. It still surprised him, every time Edward realized it. Stretched out comfortably on the bedroom floor with Ed’s hand upon him, one arm inclined behind his head, pale skin glowing in the brightly sunlit room, hair as black as a moonless midnight, dark lashes brushing high cheekbones – not to mention the _man_ underneath, lethally intelligent, compassionate to a fault, _noble_ holy _shit_ \- what the hell had Ed ever done to deserve this? There was no way he deserved this. 

But he was taking it anyway, for as long as Roy would have him.

When Edward finally forced his hand to slide from Roy's erection, the Colonel gave a wordless moan of protest. Ed leaned over him, diving in for another taste of those sinfully talented lips, and Roy’s eyelids dipped in pleasure as Ed captured his prize. Edward settled to rest chest to chest with the man, savoring the feeling of their cocks rubbing together. 

He realized moments later that the Colonel’s tacit submission was at an end, when Roy’s arms tightened around his shoulders and a graceful tilt of hips reversed their positions. 

“I’m supposed to be making _you_ feel good,” Roy explained as he reached for the bottle of amyris oil. 

“That doesn’t mean I can’t return the favor,” Ed said with a cheeky grin, thrusting up against the other man’s groin. 

Roy chose not to respond to that. Instead he began the slow, careful process of loosening Edward up to accept his cock, proprietary pleasure in his eyes as the tremble of need raced through his lover, delighting in the younger man’s reverent moans and curses of approval. The Colonel was always pleased to watch Edward come apart at the seams, proud to so easily divest his lover of his self control. 

When he deemed Edward ready, Roy leaned in to purr into his ear. “Here, or the bed?” 

“Here,” Edward said immediately. Hell, the bed was too far. 

With an amused hum Roy urged Edward to place his legs over Roy’s shoulders, thus anchoring Edward’s back to the mat. Edward took a deep breath as Roy began the slow push into his body. Hot and tight, Edward’s flesh gripped him, making it difficult for Roy to maintain control, but maintain it he did until he was completely sheathed in his lover. There he paused for a moment, hands on Edward’s hips, stroking lightly with his thumbs, waiting for Edward’s body to adjust to his girth.

When he pulled out at last, it was to thrust in again, hard, and again, setting the fast, rough pace he knew Edward liked for the first round. Later, when it would take them longer to reach their peak, they could take things more slowly, gently, sometimes for hours when time permitted. Right now Roy did not hold back, knowing that Edward could handle it – indeed, even preferred it this way. The sounds Edward was making as he rocked up to meet every thrust, deep, encouraging moans, were proof enough of that.

At that pace, it wasn't long before Edward felt himself nearing the edge, and Roy angled his strokes to target that special knot of nerves, Ed cursing mindlessly as each thrust hit it again and again, making Edward arch and writhe. Edward came just before Roy did, milking Roy’s orgasm from him as they both cried out. Closing his eyes as the last few aftershocks shuddered through him, Edward grinned as his whole body, from the tips of his toes to the roots of his hair, relaxed in perfect, boneless satisfaction.

Pulling out slowly, Roy twisted to drop onto the mat beside his lover, rolling them both onto their sides and spooning up comfortably behind him. Both their stomachs were slick with his fluids, but Edward didn't mind, running his fingers absently through the mess as Roy snuggled up against him. It was amazing, really, the things you would put up with when you were as attached to someone as he was to Roy. Even cuddling was . . . nice. Not that Ed would ever admit it out loud.

"Thank you, love," Roy purred, capturing Edward' wandering hand and bringing it to his lips, slowly lapping the come from Edward' fingers. 

It sent a shiver of arousal through Edward, his cock beginning to stir in anticipation of a second round. Roy, the bastard, noticed, and licked down Edward's palm and back up again, sucking each finger in earnest.

"I think you enjoyed that," the Colonel murmured, "though you may be a _little_ reluctant to admit it." His grin was pure evil. 

Edward twisted around to face the man.

"Am I going to have to shut you up again?" he growled softly against Roy's ear. 

Roy arched his hips into Ed’s, cock already semi-hard. 

"If you’re feeling better, please do," he purred.

Edward realized that he was, indeed, feeling better. 

And it was at that exact moment when Edward decided that the thing he loved most about Roy’s house actually _wasn’t_ his cozy window seat. 


End file.
